I'm not your parent!
by Quinis
Summary: For a prompt on The Collar Corner: "I'd like a Hurt/comfort story where at some point Peter says 'I'm not your parent' to Neal and then he regrets it."


I'm a huge fan of the show 'White Collar'.

This is a one-shot response to a prompt on The Collar Corner. The prompt was as follows:

_**Prompt/Request:**__ I'd like a Hurt/comfort story where at some point Peter says "I'm not your parent" to Neal" and then he regrets it._

Enjoy!

* * *

**I'm not your parent!**

"I'm not your parent!"

For a moment, the bullpen froze. Every person froze on what they were doing; some with fingers still pressing keys and coffee poised at their mouths, and stared at the two figures that had just walked through the glass doors.

It was Neal and Peter. The former dressed in his usual dressy outfit; custom suit and fedora, with not a hair out of place. The latter was in his usual, not-so-dressy outfit, with a familiar scowl plastered on his face.

"What'd Neal do now?" Jones whispered to Diana.

"No idea," Diana responded quietly, to the disappointment of all the gossips around her.

Neal's expression was one of horror mixed with despair, his jaw went slack and his eyes widened. Then his mouth closed with a click and his smile returned. Yet, his blue eyes were dark; instead of the usual sparkling, and everyone could see how that comment had cut into him.

Peter stalked up to his office and closed the door, the lock clicking into place loud enough for everyone to hear.

Neal smiled at the agents, bid good-day to those near him, and walked to his seat. He planted himself in the chair and didn't move. He stared at the files on his desk without opening them and it was like the thudding pain in his heart was felt by everyone who looked at him.

Needless to say, no one looked at him for long.

"You take Caffrey, I'll talk to the Boss," Diana said to Jones, determined to get to the bottom of this. Chances were that it was just a silly fight which could be resolved in the time it takes to solve a case.

But, Neal had never reacted like that before. He had never let the conman mask slip like that before.

Diana grabbed a file and knocked on Peter's door.

Jones waltzed over to Neal's desk.

"Come in," Peter sighed, unlocking the door.

"Why good morning, Agent Jones, how has your morning been?" Neal asked. He was all smiles and polite chit-chat.

"I just need you to check this over," Diana said, passing the file to Peter and biting her lip. She waited until he handed it back with a nod to ask, "sir, what was that with Caffrey? Everything okay?"

"My morning was alright, until my boss and his friend walked into the office," Jones responded smoothly, "tell me about it?"

"It's nothing."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Neal was just being, Neal." A hiss of frustration.

"We just had a difference of opinion." A slight hitch in voice.

Diana nodded and asked, "what did he do this time?"

Jones looked up at the office in time to see Peter throw his hands into the air as he offloaded his burden onto Diana. Then, he glanced down. Neal had his hands clasped together; Peter had warned him that it was something Neal did to hide tremors, with his head hung low and breathing deeply and slowly.

He was trying to keep calm, Jones realised with a start. Whatever it was, it was bad.

"Hey Neal, I think I need a coffee," he said. Peter normally frowned on using Neal for coffee runs unless the conman offered. After all, he was here to help with cases, not errands. Plus, he was easier to watch while in the offices. But, Jones didn't care about that right now. "Think you could get me one?"

"Sure." Neal was up in a shot, hat tilted over his face and heading to the door. Jones sighed and turned back to see what Diana had found out.

* * *

Over the weekend, Neal had gone shopping with Elizabeth. Just Elizabeth, without Peter. And neither of the two had paid much attention to Neal's radius. At least, not until the marshals; flanking Peter, appeared in the store while they were looking at ties.

Peter was furious and the marshals spent a good amount of time questioning Neal's relationship with his wife and whether it was appropriate.

"You think Neal's upset because Peter's angry with him?" Jones repeated sceptically.

"What else could it be?" Diana asked, baffled.

Jones shook his head. Peter had been angry at Neal many times before and never had Neal reacted this way, if anything, he enjoyed making Peter angry.

It had to be something else.

"What do we do then?" Diana questioned. They both knew that no work would get done unless this got sorted out.

"Call Elizabeth?" Jones questioned. The evil sparkle in Diana's eye almost made him regret saying it.

* * *

Elizabeth did not come running to the FBI at Diana's call. She did manage to extract most of the story from them before calling her husband.

"What did Neal say now?" she asked, because there wasn't much Neal could have done on the elevator ride up to the White Collar Crimes office.

"El," Peter groaned on the other end of the phone. He sounded exhausted and Elizabeth found her heart tearing a little.

"Tell me," she murmured into the phone, kindly offering her ear.

"It's nothing." She waited a moment, giving him an opening to elaborate, which he took. "He said that it's amazing how I dealt with the marshals, like a parent protecting their child from a mean teacher."

"And what did you say?"

A guilty pause was her only response.

"Peter, what did you say?" she asked, more firmly this time.

"I said; 'I'm not your parent'. In fact, I yelled it at him." She frowned disapprovingly. Despite not being able to see her, he reacted as if he could. In other words, he began rambling. "But, El, really. I was just stating the truth! I'm not his parent, I'm his handler."

"Hun."

"And I'm not supposed to clean up his messes; I'm supposed to stop him from making them!"

"Hun."

"He can't see me as a solution to his problems because I can't save him from everything!"

"Peter!" Third time was the charm, he stopped rambling. "How did Neal react?"

"'How did Neal react'?" A pause. "I don't know. He didn't really." There was a tone of wrongness in his voice as he realised that Neal was off his game. That something was wrong.

"Maybe you should talk to him? He's getting coffee right now." Good thing she had asked Diana and Jones where Neal was now.

A pause. "How do you know that?" And a truly baffled husband. Peter was cute when he was confused by something. And she did so love confusing him.

"I have my ways," she responded before hanging up.

* * *

Neal couldn't go back to the office. His hands were trembling and his eyes stung and it felt like he had swallowed a heavy rock and his vest felt too tight. He sat at a table in the nearby coffee shop and tried to calm down.

It shouldn't hurt so much. All Peter had said was the truth.

_I'm not your parent!_

Peter was an FBI agent.

_I'm not your parent!_

And Neal was a criminal.

_I'm not your parent!_

His head began to swim. Resting it on his arms didn't seem to help.

_I'm not your parent!_

"Can I sit here?" His head shot up at the sound of Peter's voice. Not the angry Peter in his head, which only spouted the truth, yet hurt him in ways he didn't understand, but the real Peter.

The Peter who spoke harshly but with kindness.

The Peter who had Neal's best interests at heart.

The Peter who defended him from the system and the people who enforced the system.

The Peter who gave him second, third and fourth chances. Who never seemed to stop giving him chances.

_I'm not your parent!_

"Go ahead," he responded flatly, unable to put any real emotion in his voice. It took all he had to not snipe at the man in anger.

Peter sat down, coffee in hand. And then, silence. Neal watched as Peter seemed to think through what he wanted to say.

"You don't need to apologise," he said, "you didn't say anything that wasn't the truth."

_I'm not your parent!_

Why did that statement have to keep repeating in his head, in a perfect imitation of Peter's voice?

Peter sighed. His finger tapped the side of the cup. His leg jumped a few times. He was nervous, as he always was whenever he needed to talk about emotions.

"Truth or not, I shouldn't have said it anyway," Peter finally said, "especially since it upset you so much."

"I'm fine." Yeah, he could see that Peter didn't believe him. But the response had been automatic. Besides, he didn't like how Peter thought he had been upset by a few words. Words were Neal's weapons of trade so he couldn't be hurt by them.

_I'm not your parent!_

"No, you're not."

Neal gripped his cup a little tighter in frustration. There was a moment of silence.

"So, ah, I never did ask; why were you shopping with El?"

Neal flushed, a red colour crawling up his neck. He cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at Peter.

"We." He stopped and tried again. "She wanted to surprise you with a present. I was helping her choose."

"Oh." An awkward air settled over the two.

Unable to take anymore, Neal stood up.

"I should get Jones his coffee." He went to order. Peter gave him his space, meeting him outside the shop.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said as they began walking. Neal tried to ignore the happy thump of his heart, which completely eclipsed the negative thoughts from earlier. "Anyway, you know what they say; 'Friends are the family we choose for ourselves'."

Neal froze and stared at Peter, a genuine smile creeping onto his face.

"My, Peter, was that a quote? I think you're spending a little too much time around Mozzie."

"God forbid," Peter groaned.

Neal laughed.

* * *

As the two figures walked out of the elevator, the bullpen froze. Everyone held their breath.

Peter opened the door and Neal walked through. The latter was dressed in his usual dressy outfit; custom suit and fedora, with not a hair out of place and a coffee in his hand. The former was in his usual, not-so-dressy outfit, with a familiar fond smile plastered on his face.

In that moment, a singular sigh broke out among the agents and work resumed.

"Diana, I want everything you've got on this case," Peter ordered, picking up a case file from her desk. "I think we might have enough for a warrant, if not arrest."

"Jones, your coffee," Neal said, waltzing right over to the agent in question.

"Yes, boss."

"Thanks, man."

"Neal, my office. I want your opinion on this."

Neal followed Peter up the stairs like a baby chick following its mama; papa in this case, and the White Collar gossips closed ranks on Diana and Jones.


End file.
